Heartless (Heartache)

by Danielle Allen

  “Easy, you’ve gotten better since we hit thirty and you stopped DJing. But come on man…” He shook his head. “You know your reputation. You have a different woman every time we go out. You aren’t exactly looking for a wife.”

  “You’re thirty-two and you’re doing the same shit you’ve been doing since we were sixteen,” Roman added. “Now you have a baby on the way, and you don’t even know who the mother could be. But one of the three women it’s most likely to be is one of the only women you just had to say no to. How did this even happen?”

  I scrubbed my face with my hands before I could respond to him. I loved Roman’s relationship with B. I loved Malik’s relationship with Courtney—they’d gotten married a year before Ro and B. My friends were happy, and I was happy for them. But the four of them always had something to say about how my “relationships” operated.

  Sometimes it’s hard as hell to explain single shit to these two happily married mofos.

  “Okay hear me out,” I started, moving to the edge of the chair. “I don’t think it’s Jamila because the person in the text called me Easy. She refuses to call me anything other than my first name. She told me a few different times both publicly and privately that I wasn’t her type and that she was not interested. So, at your wedding, after a long conversation and a couple of drinks, Jamila asked me to go up to her room. I didn’t go thinking we were going to have sex. I mean, don’t get me wrong. Jamila is…” I licked my lips as a mental image of Jamila appeared in my mind.

  “Out of your league?” Malik guessed.

  “Too good for you?” Roman mused.

  I glared across the room at them and tried not to laugh. “Yes.”

  We all laughed.

  “I’m not going to lie, I was just as surprised as you are,” I admitted with a chuckle. “She told me I wasn’t her type at the rehearsal when I flirted with her. She clowned me in front of everyone at the rehearsal dinner. She’s cool, but I didn’t think she was interested,” I told them.

  “Wait,” Roman interjected, amusement leaving his face immediately. “B and I got married two years ago. How the hell would Jamila be pregnant from that night?”

  “Back in March, she was in town for work or something. We crossed paths at a lounge downtown. We were talking and then drinking and then dancing and then she ended up over here.” I shrugged. “It was another unplanned night, and she made a point to tell me that it was never happening again.” I ran my hands through my hair. “But I don’t think it’s her because we used protection, it was a one-time thing, she doesn’t call me Easy, and she never called me after the wedding or after we hooked up earlier this year.”

  Malik looked at Roman. “And wouldn’t Jamila have said something to Bianca if she were pregnant?”

  Roman’s brows furrowed. “Yeah, I would think so.”

  “Okay so it has to be either Samia or Ana,” I declared.

  Malik slid to the edge of his seat and folded his hands together. “Well, call them.”

  A wave of nervousness washed over me as I called Ana first. She didn’t answer.

  “Okay,” I exhaled as the voicemail started. I started pacing again. “Hey Ana, it’s Easy. Give me a call as soon as you get this. Please. It’s important.” I paused for a second. “Thanks.”

  “You sound scared as hell,” Roman pointed out.

  I ran my hand through my hair. “I am.”

  “What’s done is done now, man. You can be scared later. You have to figure out who you’re dealing with and if there’s a reason to panic. Whoever sent you that text doesn’t believe you’d man up. You have to prove her wrong.” He stood up and clapped his hands together. “You got this! Let’s go!”

  Nodding, I jogged in place. I shook out my arms and legs and then took a deep breath. “I got this.”

  But seconds later, my phone vibrated in my hand and I almost dropped it. “Oh shit!”

  Roman was on his feet. “Who is it?”

  “It-it’s Ana,” I answered, staring at her name as it flashed across the screen.

  “Answer it!” he barked as it reached the third ring.

  I put the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

  “Easy?” Ana’s accented voice greeted me. “It’s Ana.”

  Ana Ramirez was a gorgeous high school Spanish teacher with long legs and an affinity for yoga. She was flexible and had the sexiest accent. Just hearing her voice made me remember how much fun we’d had.

  Why did we stop talking? I wondered.

  “Hello? Easy?” Ana called out, bringing me back to the present.

  “Hey, hi,” I said quickly. “How are you?”

  “Fine…” She let out a nervous giggle. “How are you?”

  “Good. Good. Good good good. Anything new?”

  “Anything new? I haven’t heard from you in months and now you’re calling out of the blue. What’s going on?”

  I sighed. “Are you pregnant?”

  Roman and Malik threw up their arms and groaned. I knew it wasn’t the smoothest way to ask, but I didn’t know how else to transition.

  “What?” Ana squeaked. “Pregnant?”

  “Yeah…” I let my answer trail off as my heart beats got louder.

  I didn’t know what I was going to do if she said yes. I mean, I was going to take care of my responsibility if it was mine, but I wasn’t ready for that shit.

  “No, I’m not pregnant! What the hell?” She started speaking in Spanish and then she slipped back into English. “…and with you? Ha! Why would you ever think I was pregnant?”

  “I was just making sure,” I told her. “We used a condom every time, but I just wanted to be sure.”

  I didn’t feel like explaining the text message situation to her.

  “Well, that’s weird,” she commented.

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Well, that’s me. Weird.”

  “I’m on birth control. I’m not having a baby out of wedlock. Especially not with you.”

  My eyebrows flew up and I dropped my hand. “Especially not with me?” I repeated. “What does that mean?”

  “Come on, Easy,” she laughed. “You’re not the marrying type. You’re the…fling. It took me a couple of months to get over it, but I realized that you were a fling. That’s it. I thought we had something special and as soon as I mentioned feelings, you disappeared.”

  Ohhhhh… I remember now. She said she loved me.

  “I’m sorry it came across like that, but I didn’t disappear,” I apologized, walking into the kitchen away from my boys. “I told you I wasn’t looking for a relationship and since you were, it was best we didn’t see each other anymore.”

  “And then I never heard from you again.”

  “You’re right.” I stood at the kitchen window, looking out over the river. “And I’m sorry about that.”

  “Have you”—she cleared her throat lightly— “changed your stance on that?”

  “No, I’m still not looking for a relationship.”

  “Oh. Okay. Then you really called just to check to see if I was pregnant with your baby?”

  “I, uh yeah, I guess so.”

  “Wow. I stepped out of dinner thinking this conversation was going to go a different way.”

  I chewed my bottom lip and remained quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry about that,” I offered feebly. “I hope you have a nice time at your dinner.”

  “Thanks. Goodbye, Easy.”

  “Bye, Ana.”

  I put my phone down and then braced myself against the counter. With my eyes closed, I hung my head and took a deep breath. That whole interaction was rough. I was glad she wasn’t pregnant, but the way she said “especially not you” rubbed me the wrong way.

  Shaking it off, I turned around and froze.

  “How long have you been eavesdropping?” I asked, eyeing Malik and Roman standing at the entrance of the kitchen.

  “The whole damn time,” Malik answered, crossing his arms over his chest. “So, she’s not it?”
/>   “Nope. Not her.”

  Roman shook his head. “Well… call Samia.”

  “I am. I just”—I pulled my phone out of my pocket. “I just needed a minute.”

  Bracing myself, I called Samia.

  “Hello?” she answered on the second ring.

  “Hey, Samia. It’s Easy,” I started.

  “I have caller ID.”

  My eyes widened. “Okay…” I dragged the word out as I tried to gather myself. “How are you?”

  “Easy, I haven’t heard from your ass in weeks. What do you want?”

  Samia was always straight to the point. I liked that about her. I liked a lot of things about her. But she could be petty sometimes, so I could see her sending a text message like the one I’d received.

  Shaking my head, I laughed. “You were always a straight shooter.”

  “And you were always dancing around the point,” she returned. “What do you want, Easy?”

  “Are you okay? Are you… pregnant?”

  As soon as the question was out of my mouth, Malik threw up his arms and walked out of the kitchen. Roman shook his head and followed.

  I glared in their direction. They’d never been in this situation before. They didn’t understand the stress.

  I’d like to see them do better. Between Roman’s moody ass and Malik’s overanalytical ass, they wouldn’t do any better in this situation, I thought.

  “What?” Samia’s screeching was so loud I had to pull the phone from my ear. “The fuck you mean, pregnant?”

  “I just—”

  “You called me out of the blue to ask me if I’m pregnant? Yeah, I might have gained a couple pounds, but for you to come out of your mouth with some shit like that is rude as hell!”

  “I’m not saying you look pregnant at all,” I clarified in a rush. “The last picture I saw of you in those jeans”—I let out a low whistle— “had me reminiscing of our time together because your sexy ass—”

  “Cut the shit, Easy.”

  “Okay. I got a text message from someone telling me they were pregnant, and I thought it might be you. Not because you look pregnant. Just because you and I were together over the last few months.”

  “And you stopped seeing me for that blonde bitch so why don’t you ask her.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut. I should’ve seen that coming and I missed it.

  “Actually, I never wanted to stop seeing you,” I corrected gently. “You decided that you didn’t want to see me anymore.”

  “Yeah, because that blonde bitch showed up at my salon and showed me pictures of her in your bed after you told me you weren’t seeing her.”

  Hannah really is crazy, I reflected.

  “No…” I corrected her gently. “What I said was that she was from my past.”

  “Well, you said she was from your past, yet she was in your bed in the present. So, you can continue to fuck yourself—now and in the future.”

  “I didn’t call to get into that. Although, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to lie to you, but I can see how me phrasing it the way I did led you to believe I had no dealings with her. So please, forgive me. Please.”

  “I forgive you, but I don’t want anything to do with you anymore. Like I said when we ended.”

  “I understand.”

  “And if that crazy bitch is pregnant, good fucking luck,” she cackled. “You reap what you sow, Easy. And with her crazy ass, you are going to have your hands full.”

  “It’s not her.”

  “Well, how many women were you fucking?” Samia questioned with obvious disgust in her voice.

  “It wasn’t like that and I use protection all the time. You know that.”

  “Mmm hmm,” she replied.

  I smiled because I could imagine how her pretty, plump lips would purse when she was annoyed with me.

  “Well, maybe if you’d commit to one woman instead of slutting around Richmond, you wouldn’t be calling everyone in your little black book to find out who your baby mama is,” she pointed out.

  “Samia, it’s not like that,” I replied.

  “So, you’re not calling around looking for the woman you impregnated?”

  I hesitated for one second.

  “Exactly,” she continued. “Good luck, Easy.”

  “Thanks.”

  We said our goodbyes and I hung up the phone.

  “It’s not Samia,” I announced, looking at Malik and Roman who had reentered the kitchen.

  “What if the person is doing it to fuck with you?” Roman asked with a heaviness in his voice that spoke volumes.

  If anyone knew about anonymous messages sent with the intention of getting a reaction, it was Roman Harper. Five years ago, he had two stalking incidents. One was harmless and the other, not so much. But all of us were changed by it.

  “It could be,” I replied. “But I don’t know. It didn’t feel like bullshit to me. But if it is, that’s messed up.”

  “If it is someone just trying to get under your skin, who would do something like that?” Malik wondered.

  We were all quiet.

  I looked over at Roman who seemed to be deep in thought. “I know you’ve had some bad experiences with anonymous messages,” I started, not knowing how he was going to react. “But I don’t know if this is the same as that.”

  He snapped out of it and looked up at me. “Then call Jamila. If it’s not her, then we’ll figure something out.”

  “We’ll try to trace the number to see if we can at least find the IP address used,” Malik offered.

  My nerves flared up as it did with the other two calls, but I felt much more confident that it was someone trying to mess with me.

  “Hello?” Jamila answered. The throatiness of her tone was seductive.

  “Hey, Jamila. It’s Easy.”

  “Hello, Bradley,” she replied, still refusing to call me by my nickname. “How can I help you?”

  “I was just calling to see how you were doing.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we hadn’t talked in a while and I just wanted… to know… if…” My sentence trailed off as Malik and Roman were shaking their heads profusely. “You were on my mind and I wanted to check on you,” I stated carefully. “How are you?”

  “I’m well. And yourself?”

  “I’m okay.” I furrowed my brows, not knowing how to broach the question. “Are you ready for the weekend? Any big plans? Going to relax with a drink?”

  I was pretty impressed with myself for adding that last question. My logic was that if she was going to relax with a drink, she probably wasn’t pregnant.

  “No,” she answered. “I plan on staying in all weekend.”

  “Kicking your feet up and having some wine. Or maybe get a few Amaretto sours to unwind from the week?” I asked, recalling her drink order from the night we’d reconnected.

  She paused for a moment. “Bradley, what do you want?”

  “I got an interesting text message and it made me think of you.”

  “Okay…” She dragged the word out. “And?”

  “Yeah and so… um.” I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. “We had a lot to drink the last time we saw each other.”

  “Yeah. Any regrettable decisions I make generally involve alcohol,” she said flatly.

  “We uh… we were careful, right? I remember us being careful.” I turned my back to my friends. “We went through a box of condoms that night.”

  “I remember,” she said flatly.

  “It was a good time,” I reminisced.

  “It was a really good time,” she agreed. “It was a mistake, but it was a good time nonetheless.”

  “You said it was a mistake after the wedding, too, but we ended up in bed together again. And you can’t deny it… when we ran into each other, we had fun. And that was before I had you in my bed. While we were hanging out at that lounge, fully clothed, we had fun.”

  “Yeah, we did.” She was quiet for a moment. “And like I said, i
t was a mistake.”

  “What part was the mistake?” I questioned, broaching the reason for my call. “Do you think it was a mistake because we shouldn’t have had sex or was it a mistake because of… what happened afterward?”

  “And what happened afterward?”

  I turned back around to face my boys. They had gotten in my head and fucked me up. How the hell am I supposed to get the information if I don’t just come out and ask?

  “Bradley, what’s the purpose of this call?” Jamila wondered with a sigh. “We don’t talk. We aren’t friends. Why are you calling me?”

  “I was hoping we could be friends.”

  “No.”

  The way she said it was funny and even though I tried to hold it in, I let out a short laugh. “Oh wow. Why not?”

  “You know why.”

  “I really don’t,” I replied. “We have a good time together.”

  “We do. And that’s all that it is. A good time.” She exhaled loudly. “Anyway, this has been an interesting call, but…”

  “Wait, I called because I have a question.” I hesitated, unsure.

  “Are you going to ask it or are you going to continue to waste my time?”

  “Uh, Jamila, I was just, um, wondering,” I stammered, running my hand through my hair. “I mean, I doubt that it’s you, but I have to ask since I got a text message um…”

  “Spit it out!” she interrupted in exasperation. “You were drunk as hell at that bar and you didn’t stumble over your words like you’re doing right now. What is going on?”

  She was right. I didn’t know how to be anything other than direct.

  “Are you pregnant?” I blurted out.

  “Yes,” she returned.

  “I asked because—wait, what?” I gulped. It took everything in me to eliminate the panic from my voice. My eyes were about to bug out of my head as I stared across the room at Malik and Roman. “You’re pregnant?”

  “I am. And I would appreciate you not telling anyone because I’m keeping it on the low.”

  My stomach plummeted. I felt like the floor was going to open up and swallow me. “I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t you just… why didn’t you tell me it was you? Why send that anonymous message?” The questions were spilling out of me as I braced myself against the counter.

  “Because all you needed to know was that you had impregnated someone. That’s it.”